For Fear
by DarkestWolfx
Summary: It hadn't been easy losing their father, but The Hood's trick brought it all back. It wasn't easy to escape the thralls of a nightmare, but a brother could undo that. As requested by xxdtfanxx on my tumblr.


This was a request from my tumblr: feel free to make them there or here. xxdtfanxx asked for: Alan and nightmare/comfort TAG. Preferably with Scott doing the comforting.

I hope you like it. The title came from the quote below, so I chucked it in.

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" _There are many who don't wish to sleep for fear of nightmares. There are many who don't wish to wake for the same fear."_

Richelle E. Goodrich

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Sometimes with International Rescue there was no time to sleep.

Sometimes was usually most of the time, especially after The Hood's sudden reappearance. Most had nothing to do with him, but the calls for rescues had started coming in in floods again.

For Alan, there was _always_ time to sleep.

Not because he wanted to, rather because it was what seemed the only thing he could do. His brothers didn't really take him on rescues, leaving him always with reasons of _'do your work'_ or _'go back to sleep'_ or Gordon's new favourite: _'Alan, why don't you rescue the TV?'_ Being forced to allow him fly out to The Hood's satellite seemed plenty of 'rescue' experience for a while in their guardian older brother books.

So when John had woken them that night he'd rushed to the lounge to join his brothers even though he could predict their responses in a heartbeat. They hadn't changed in the space of a year, so there was no way they would change in the space of a minute. In fact, although they made many on the spot decisions at times and Scott was usually good at calling them, he would never call anything on the spot when it came to the youngest Tracy.

Part of Alan hated it.

"Can I come?"

"We don't need Thunderbird Three Alan."

"I could still help."

"Gordon's coming with us." The red head looked as though he'd been hoping to get out of it if the drop of his weary shoulders was anything to go by, all hopes of returning to a world of sleep dashed for another night. Alan just wanted to be rescued from exactly that possibility.

"I could be an extra pair of hands." Virgil looked as though he was considering it for a moment, but he wouldn't relent. Virgil would only give if Scott did and the eldest _never_ caved first. He tried reasoning. "Gordon's tired."

"And you're wide awake." Scott answered dryly. "Go back to bed, we'll see you in the morning."

"What's the point in that?"

"Alan, you're not coming with us." Scott wasn't going to be persuaded (that much was obvious) for he'd put his hands on his hips. Virgil and Gordon weren't going to challenge him either, for it was not unlikely – as it was in fact probably true – that they felt the same. He knew it wasn't because they didn't have faith in him (or at least he hoped it wasn't) rather because they wanted to protect him.

"Night Alan."

"Night." For a while he stood there mulling over the idea of staying awake, sitting on the sofa and waiting for them to come home. He'd fall asleep though: he always did. Sleep was like a spell, made worse and given a heavier hold on the nights they left him to venture out into whichever dangerous abyss called for them. At least in the day it was harder to give into such a spell. The sun had that effect on him of propelling him on with the need to do something.

Most of the time with International Rescue there was no time to sleep, especially on the nights like these.

For him there was _always_ time to sleep.

In the end he decided to look out of the window. Staring at the sky helped to some extent. It was a focal point, something he could throw all his attention to and occasionally, just the odd couple of times, he'd be awake to see them come home. To see the Thunderbirds fly back into view and onto the Island.

Back to safety. Back to home.

The other thing about staring at the star filled sky was knowing that up there – thousands of miles away, but up there nonetheless – was John, hopefully as safe as they were down here.

Here was home, out there was danger. Nothing could go wrong on the Island, but everything could fall apart in seconds once you stepped foot or craft from it.

Just like dad.

" _I'll be home soon."_

It was believable when he said it: it dwindled from reality when he didn't act on it.

" _We'll be home soon."_

" _We'll see you in the morning."_

That couldn't be believed now.

Regardless of how many times his brothers could say it, it couldn't be believed.

Not by him.

By the time they returned little seemed to have changed. Thunderbird One crossed the sky like some kind of meteor burning up as it speedily approached the Island, advancing like there was nought to stand in its way. Nothing to stop them returning home.

It was still dark, near pitch black as the sun rose and almost eerily silent except for the blasting sound of their engines roaring as they streaked across the sky.

So the rescue hadn't taken as long as they thought nor was it as dangerous and really Alan could have come with them, even if it was only to observe. Scott heaved a tired sigh. The events of nights like these were hardly good for them all and when you considered they had to be awake in the day as well, it amounted to almost no sleep within the busy times.

It was difficult to land Thunderbird One quietly let alone silently, but no one was up when he entered the lounge meaning the impossible feet had been accomplished as well as it ever could. They'd had the sensible idea to keep sleeping whilst they could and it was something Scott wanted to join them in as soon as possible. John thought they might get a few hours of peace before early morning dawned and someone somewhere released that something had malfunction and bellowed for them. Of course, he would wait for Virgil and Gordon to return first, but that wasn't to say he couldn't shower in the meantime. He did have half an hour or so to kill.

He'd long since become accustom to walking in the dark. It originated from how easy it was to wake up the light sensitive John (only now an issue when he spent long enough on Earth to stay overnight) and developed from there as a way to avoid disturbing anyone else. He'd got better at it since they started International Rescue. In a way, it was a skill he felt he had to perfect despite how little it mattered.

The dark had never bothered him as a child. It hadn't really bothered any of them except Gordon, then Alan once he released that if the stars disappeared, the sky would be pitch black. John had solved that problem. Scott hadn't really had a dealing in it although he was the eldest. He'd tried but any explanation he could attempt to give on space had completely backfired. John found a way to weave words around his fingers and at times Scott wished he had that very same tact. It would have come in helpful in the past years of being the older 'look out' brother.

It was those very refined instincts which allowed him to notice the small trickles of light peeking out of the half open door to Alan's room. A half open door wasn't such a matter as he would simply pull it shut, however his brother laying on the floor was a one to send alarm bells ringing. Small bells at first which if he wasn't quite as protective as he was, could possibly have been ignored, yet they increased in magnitude as he came further into the room, suddenly able to hear (but not understand) the indistinct mumblings rolling off Alan's tongue.

"Alan?"

He tried to be quiet to avoid waking him as he furrowed his brow and wondered if that was what he should be doing precisely when mumblings turned into inarticulate spoken words which became louder all in the space of seconds as though there was something attacking them.

"Alan, wake up."

He dropped to his knees and grabbed the blonde's shoulder pulling him in towards him, holding him tight. Alan jolted awake, instantly thrashing at his arms as though to try and break from the grip. Scott didn't need to know masses to be sure that only part of Alan was physically here whilst another part was away; stuck, trapped, screaming to be let out.

"Alan!" He was shocked at the volume of his voice, the power he had put behind it and the force he must have used to break through whatever foggy land Alan had been in. The youngest quieted instantly, leaning back into him, his heart still as wild and racing as though he had just finished running a mile though heaped and dark woodlands. His hands gripped Scott's arms ferociously, almost desperately as though to check, to be sure that he was there with him.

To be sure this wasn't still a dreaming.

It made Scott want to know exactly what it was he'd even been conjuring up within his mind. He didn't ask for what seemed like hours, sitting in the near dark, the only light coming from the window which filtered across to the thrown back door, escaping out into the hall.

If he'd woken anyone, they didn't come to them.

He waited until Alan's heart had quietened, seeming more in tune with his own still calm paced beat: not that he knew how he'd been able to keep such. He waited until his brother appeared fully settled in the world of the living again before he said anything. If it was John he'd have said nothing at all rather opting to acknowledge it and know that was enough; if it was Virgil he'd have changed the subject, started to talk about music, getting it wrong to make the middle child correct him until talking suited; if it was Gordon he'd have made a joke out of it, attempted to laugh it off before getting to the bottom of it all through a mix of humoured amusement; but no, this was Alan and Alan was different.

Alan in many ways was still like a child, or still was a child. Scott had to remind himself that Alan was only sixteen regardless of the maturity he _could_ show, or the intelligence he _could_ have or the laid back front he _could_ present. When you removed all that you were left with the shell of a child, the foundations on which Alan Tracy have been built. International Rescue had made him grow up fast: losing both parents simply made him grow up faster.

"You alright?" The question was the best starting point he could think of. Alan nodded shakily, an action Scott only knew of due to their closeness, one he felt not saw. "You were talking in your sleep."

"Was I?" Scott tried not to sigh, electing to breathe deeply instead. Of all the ways Alan could have picked to go around this he was, of course, going to pick the defensive route. The route that any child would take to avoid looking silly or appearing weak, to avoid placing strain and worry upon a parent or to simply hide away demons they wanted no one to share.

"Alan, what were you dreaming of?" The youngest wriggled from his grip, moving away from him almost like lightning before clambering onto the bed.

"I don't remember." Talking in the dark was tiring him. Scott leaned over to the side cabinet and flicked on the lamp, Alan blinking like a rabbit in headlights as the room lit up. Now Scott could see him, he could see his face and faces (as he had learnt through his brotherly experiences) said an awful lot.

"I think you do." Alan shook his head. He'd fenced himself in against the wall, pulled his knees close towards him and kept his gaze away from the elders. Scott looked around as a way of time passing. He knew the room almost inside out, as he did all in the house. He liked to know for whatever reason where all the little obvious dangers could be. Maybe that came from Gordon and Alan attempting to store things way above their reach as children just to prove they could in fact get them down again.

He searched for something to prompt him as truthfully, he was unsure of what to say. Sometimes Alan could be the openness of a laid out book, then at others he was the entire flip side of the coin with one word being enough to set off something you aren't aware you've started. He didn't want to say anything uneducated to the mind of his youngest brother, because it was a very varied and triggered place.

"Are Virgil and Gordon home?" The meekly asked question surprised him. It surprised him not so much as to the start of a new conversation, not even as much on the topic, but on the frantic undertone laced throughout it, as though the right answer was a necessity.

"They're on their way."

"Are you sure?" He could only nod. Although then something clicked, something in the way Alan had asked the questions and avoid answering his. He sat on the bed glad Alan didn't move away although there wasn't really anywhere he could go, but the youngest could be crafty and nifty when he needed to be. Scott sensed that this wasn't one of those times though. Alan may well be running from something, but whatever that was he looked stuck to run until he knew answers, answers which only Scott could give him.

"Were you worried about us?" His guess was right as Alan nodded slowly folding his arms affront of him. Scott smiled slightly, the thought behind all of Alan's worry perfectly sweet natured. He was hoping he could cheer the mood, provide some kind of security and have Alan relax in that bubble for the rest of the evening. Anything else could be discussed in the morning on a level head, an easier plain upon which to start any conversation with the youngest. "Alan, you know we always come home."

"Dad didn't." Something shattered. Any hope of closing this was out of the window and Scott mused as to how they could have been so blind sighted: how _he_ could have. He should have sensed there was something running deeper throughout this. He should have _known_. Part of him considered now if this explained Alan's increased interest in rescues to counter their lessening of his options to go on said rescues. A need founded through his burning desire to know they were alright at all times rivaling theirs to know he was safe out of harm's way. He didn't know what to say to that, because the more he thought about it, the more he released they'd been encouraging it. They'd been worsening a deep fear that all was going to be pulled out from under the youngest, since the security they all knew didn't come from each other. Honestly, it came from _dad_ , from Jeff Tracy.

Pieces of him now thought he should check with Virgil that they were on their way home. Another section of his mind warned what impression that would give Alan. He had to at least appear sure.

"He didn't." They all knew there was nothing that could be done: they hadn't been there. Not that it really gave them comfort now and it evidently hadn't given that to Alan for he had twisted this around in his mind for ages, twisted and twisted until it ended up as some kind of horror. One which terrorised him every night and day for they ventured out normally on every one to some dangerous zone after zone. "I keep thinking about it." For weeks they all had before finally pulling themselves together, finally realising they couldn't stop. Scott thought now they should have.

Alan was bound up like a tightly winded coil just waiting to be sprung, his words forming in breaks as though even they were becoming a lost ability to him. Scott hoped his presence was enough since he wanted to focus on hearing every word as it came, concentrate on the details and seek out a solution, no matter how long winded.

"It was all The Hood's trick." Alan's voice wavered. "It was meant to get to us."

"Of course it was. He hates us."

"No, I mean _get_ to us. He could have used any signal beacon, but he uses a Y-eighty-eighty transponder beacon." When Alan had first mentioned it to him, it had been brief, an idea which he had dismissed before getting Brains option. Brains quite honestly thought the beacon could have been chance from the black market seeing as all the other components could be sourced there. The coincidences that The Hood had used the same type beacon though had driven Alan up the wall and back down again. He couldn't shake it from his mind that somewhere in some shape or form The Hood had to have a hand in their father's end. Otherwise, how could he have known?

"I thought we went through this." Scott tried, hoping he could at least solve one issue. Push The Hood out of the way and hope it allowed a clearer mind set to take residence. "It might not have been The Hood."

"No, and I don't know which is worse!" The outburst did shock him. Alan had been so subdued to the things around him that the sudden response was like letting off a rocket. "If it was The Hood he could do it again and we wouldn't have a clue how he did it to begin with, and if it wasn't… then that's worse. Worse because we don't know, and worse because it could be unstoppable like nature."

Nature. That was the link. Natural disasters. Whether their father's had been manmade or not, the pressing, nagging, itching little bug all came back down to the start. In Natural disasters lay the origins for International Rescue, stretching out to those manmade in order to try and aid all people, but fundamentally the problem lay in the continuation of the norm.

It lay elsewhere than Alan's frontal display of thoughts.

It lay in _them_.

"This isn't about dad and it isn't about The Hood." Alan looked up now. He looked directly at Scott for the first time during their whole conversation. Scott supposed this meant he'd hit the nail on the head. "It's about us. You, me, John, Virgil, Gordon, all of us: isn't it?" The blonde nodded an affirmative answer. Scott inhaled a deep breath unsure of what could be done to solve an issue that needed to stay around. So there was something else he needed to know. "Alan, tell me what you were dreaming of."

"It changes." At least there was some honesty creeping in now despite how uneasy Alan seemed talking about it. "Depending on where you go, or where you've been, but it's always the same." "There's never anything I can do and you all leave."

"Leave?" He frowned in confusion. They did always leave without him, but they came back. Alan surely knew they would come back.

"Leave _me_."

"We're not going to do that."

"You can't say that!" Alan looked at him intently for a moment before adverting his glance. "Not anymore." Scott moved closer, close enough to wrap an arm around the younger's shoulders, close enough to reassure him.

"Alan I can't make you believe me. But, if I don't believe it... how can I make sure I don't?" He wasn't sure whether he believed his own words, but Alan looked at him with a flicker of something positive, with a sense of hope, as though he did believe them or at the very least, wanted to. "We never want or sometimes intend to leave the people we love."

"So you can't promise that you won't."

"I can't talk for anyone, but I can tell you that I will never leave you." Alan smiled, a real smile and Scott knew he'd succeeded in getting Alan to believe in him again if nothing else. "So let's see if we can try to stop dreaming about it?" Alan nodded before resting his head onto the elders shoulder. Scott laughed at the thought of how Alan would shortly be taller than him.

Alan stared at him with piqued curiosity. "What are you laughing at?"

"Maybe we could finally get you to do some school work if you'll be staying awake." Alan's eyes widened and Scott couldn't help but smile. "You know what they say after all, learning something new helps your mind to stop thinking about other things."

"You've made that up."

"No. John told me it and he makes nothing up. Except code." He considered it again for a minute. "And really bad jokes." That, at least, broke a laugh.

They sat there for a while until Scott knew it wouldn't be long until Virgil and Gordon returned. The very thought made him yawn subconsciously.

"You're tired."

"Not really." He had been, part of him still was, but another part of him – the brotherly side of him – was wide awake even if all the other Scott mentalities weren't.

"Scott?"

"Hmm."

"What if… what if this doesn't help? What if I keep seeing it?"

"If you keep having nightmares where we all abandon you, then Alan, you wake me up." It occurred to him that they weren't always going to be there. "Or call."

"And if they go away? If they go away and I can't sleep?"

"Then you do the same. Just wake me up and I'll talk to you."

Alan looked sheepishly at him. "Thanks." It was like he thought it wasn't enough to pay off a (non-existent) debt.

"It's okay." He hugged the younger closer and Alan hugged back. "Come on, we'll go wait for Virgil and Gordon." He thought being in the same room as their father's desk might helped as well as seeing their brothers return. It was his hope that may provide the only comfort he couldn't give. He would never be able to replace their father, no matter how good a brother he was, no matter how hard he tried. There were some things he could do the same though, protect; protect and comfort, love and wait.

They waited up for the exhausted pair who weren't far away and so the wait wasn't long. Alan was instantly happier once they entered the lounge and greeted them vividly. Scott smiled as he watched the interaction which neither returned brother questioned whatever they were thinking.

Alan avoided talking about it. Scott never said anything. For a while Alan spoke to him about it, but then dwindled in mentioning it. Scott didn't think it ever went away, in fact it was worse following any incident they'd dealt with in which The Hood had been involved.

John, Virgil and Gordon never came to know. For this nightmare was their own puzzle to solve.

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Thanks for reading.


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